


one of those goddamn keebler elves

by aliciaxadrienne



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Cutesy, First Time, Gay Sex, M/M, NYC in winter, i actually had to research how to ice skate for this it is ridiculous how inexperienced i am, iceskating, totally heterosexual bro date turns into the most gay night on the town ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:03:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2869787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliciaxadrienne/pseuds/aliciaxadrienne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a post-Christmas trip to NYC, Luke really wants to take his favorite drummer on a date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	one of those goddamn keebler elves

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by a drabble thing that i sent to the love of my life gabi as a mini christmas present. i decided to write it because why not  
> had a lot of fun writing this, partly because i wrote the porny bit at my dad's house 100 feet away from his super conservative girlfriend. after writing and singing pop songs really loudly, making homophobes uncomfortable is my favorite pastime

The impromptu trip to NYC had been entirely Calum’s idea, but no one was complaining, really.

As a whole, the band had about a two week time frame from Christmas Eve to the next time management expected them to do much of anything. So, after Boxing Day, Calum messaged the group chat with a screenshot of a flight confirmation web page and several question marks. Luke had responded with several exclamation points, Ashton had called Calum and lectured him on buying expensive tickets without telling anyone, and Michael had never actually responded. But his presence on the plane a few days later spoke volumes. 

Ashton had felt a little guilty for leaving Harry and Lauren, even if they were only going to New York for a few days, in the middle of the holidays, but Calum had created a cover story that satisfied all parties.

“I’ve always wanted to see Rockefeller Center lit up in person, and I’m effectively going to force these lads to come with me. I’ll hold them captive if I have to,” Calum explained, both a little drunk and distracted by the puppy squirming around on his lap, “which means you all have no choice but to let them come with me.”

There had been very little arguing after that, mostly because Luke had been playing the ‘i’m an adult now’ card every single time Liz objected to anything and therefore she had given up on most petty arguments. 

So on the twenty seventh, they boarded a plane. Ashton insisted on sitting next to Luke because Michael had forewarned him that just because they were in first class seats, he was by no means obligated to be classy himself and therefore would not be held responsible for his own actions. Calum cursed Ashton’s firstborn as a result but it seemed worth it in the end.

As expected, the plane ride was long and incredibly uninteresting, so Luke occupied himself with researching fun things to do in NYC during the holidays. They had been to the city several times before, but not when they had excessive amounts of free time, so this was a whole new ball game. He spent a couple minutes considering if Mikey would want to go see the Rockettes with him, and turned around to ask the dyed redhead only to find that he was passed out with his head on Calum’s (who looked very bemused by the whole situation) lap. 

Luke made a mental note to ask again later and scrolled down a little to find someone on a forum posting about how most ice rinks in NYC stayed open 24/7 for the days inbetween the 23rd and the 2nd. A giddy feeling rose up in his chest and he closed the browser, certain that he had found the perfect thing for him and Ashton to do that night after they settled into the hotel.

\--------------

The hotel Calum had picked was god awful, and that was being kind. He defended his choice as being “the most discreet option available on such short notice,” but that didn’t make up for the lack of pillow cases and prehistoric-era television channels.

Plus, there were only two twin beds. For both rooms. One in each. Normally that wouldn’t have mattered as much, but after being on tour for so long, and being in close enough proximity to hear every single noise someone else emitted, sharing a bed was not a favorable idea. 

“Luke and I will share,” Ashton spoke up while the rest of his bandmates stood in dumbfounded silence, “since we already have been sitting next to each other all day anyways.” The pair had been spending tons of time together lately, and Ashton would be lying if he said he was even a little bit sick of his younger bandmate. If anything, he just wanted to spend more time with him.

Since it was already pretty late, Calum and Michael left the room a few minutes later, not able to resist throwing in a couple of casual sexual euphemisms, Michael even going as far as to pull out a giant wad of condoms and put them on the bedside table for “safekeeping.” 

Luke blushes furiously while Ashton simply throws up his middle finger and continues scrolling down his twitter feed, comfortably spread out on the bed.

After a few minutes, Ashton decides abruptedly that it is probably a good idea to take a shower; the long flight has left him feeling gross and he is not up for waiting until the morning.

He steps past Luke, who is furiously unpacking his suitcase and lining up the three pairs of shoes he brought with him neatly against the wall. Ashton gently nudges his own suitcase towards Luke as if to give permission, and then shuts the bathroom door behind him.

He’s already undressed, in the shower, and halfway through shampooing his hair when he realizes that the shower curtain is much too small for the length of the tub; there’s probably a good six inches of unprotected flooring on either side. 

Instead of dealing with the issue immediately as it presented itself, Ashton chooses to ignore it. The day has been obnoxiously long and there seems to be enough towels to clean up the mess later.

Ashton treats himself to an extra long shower and only feels a little bad about it. Whenever he and Luke share a room, the younger tends to take the later shower anyway, not quite as sweaty from playing guitar as Ashton gets from drumming all night.

For a few minutes, Ashton indulges in a few selfish thoughts about his relationship with Luke. They’re not dating in any sense of the word, but they’re not overtly platonic in day to day life. Jokes about getting on one knee and proposing are the cornerstone of practically every conversation they have about the future of 5SOS, and Ashton knows just how good of a kisser Luke is. Ashton supposes that if they weren’t in the public eye so much, they’d be together. 

He tries not to let that bother him, tries to just relax and enjoy the hot water pulsating over his body, loosening the pressure points that had tensed up during the long flight. There’s a brief second where he wishes that Luke was in the room too, shaving and singing christmas carols so Ashton could berate him because, hello, the holidays are over. 

Most of his daydreams involving Luke are either wildly inappropriate or incredibly fucking domestic.

By the time he gets out of the shower, Ashton’s fingers are wrinkled and his spotify has played the entirety of his favorite Arctic Monkeys album, leaving the sound of the heater as the only audible noise. The floor is soaking wet and ice-cold, a nice slap in the face in contrast to the previous relaxation he had enjoyed. 

His concentration, heavy-set on mopping up the wayward water, is broken a few minutes later when Luke opens the door, surprise clear on his face.

“It was one of those goddamn keebler elves,” Ashton vowed, a reference to the mascot on a package of cookies Michael had bought as a result of a chocolate craving immediately after they landed. 

Luke just nods, solemnly, like what Ashton just said makes any sense to him at all. “How about I call room service and get us some more towels,” he points at the pile behind the drummer, “since you’ve soaked every single one we have?”

He turns to leave but Ashton calls his name out, three seconds away from losing his shit and dying of laughter. There are towels surrounding him, like a unsightly moat, and the one haphazardly thrown around his waist is equally drenched.

“You think you could find Elf on pay-per-view or something?” He asks, childlike in body language, sat cross-legged on the bathroom floor, but hilariously large in stature. 

Luke smiles a little, like he’s got something else up his sleeve, before leaving the door open a crack and calling the front desk. 

The woman at reception with a heavy Brooklyn accent is in the middle of reading back Luke’s list of requests to him when the bathroom door opens again. 

Ashton is leaning against the door frame, hair looking slightly windblown, towel hanging dangerously loose on his hips. He’s watching Luke with a smirk and the blonde wonders if there’s something on his face, reaches the hand that had previously been fiddling with the waistband of his joggers up to tug at the ends of his hair. The lady on the phone asks a question, and Luke offers a confirmatory noise before hanging up. 

“Um, there’s a 50/50 shot we’ll be getting those towels,” Ashton raises an eyebrow, and Luke gulps, trying not to focus on absabsabsabs, “i kind of was only half paying attention to the receptionist.. technically I could have just sold my soul to her.”

Ashton giggles as he makes his way to his half unpacked suitcase, picking out his favorite lounge pants and lazily shimming them on under the towel. Luke is grateful for this, but says nothing, afraid he’ll just embarrass himself.

He’s about to mumble something about going to bed when Ashton excitedly points at the television, where Zooey Deschanel is singing in the shower. “You found it!” The older boy skips over to the bed and all but jumps on top of Luke, effectively scaring the shit out of him.

“Yeah, I did,” Luke takes a deep breath, never fond of suggesting new ideas, “but i was thinking we could do something else?” The statement comes out like a question and he winces at his own insecurity around the practical Greek God Adonis snuggled into his chest.

“What could possibly be greater than watching Elf for the hundredth time this month?” Luke feels, rather than sees, the teasing grin and untenses slightly, slightly reassured. One of his hands subconsciously drifts down to play with Ashton’s curls, who lets out a comfortable sigh at the contact.

Luke almost considers saying nothing and just falling asleep like this. There’s no way he can disappoint Ashton if they stay in, unless the towels and the hot chocolate he ordered never come. 

But the opportunity to go ice skating at night is priceless, and something they definitely can’t do at home.

“Get dressed,” Luke says, and he tries to make it sound like an order.

“What? Do you not like me like this?” Ashton retorts, and awkwardly strikes a pose while still laying down, putting one hand on his hip, smirking as Luke’s cheeks flush.

“We’re going out in New York City in December,” Luke warns, silently praying that Ashton will just accept it without any more questions, “don’t blame me if you’re freezing.”

“Okay, Lukey,” Ashton answers, humorously swaying his hips on his way back to his suitcase. 

\--------------

A few minutes later, Luke locks the hotel room door behind him and slides the keycard into his back pocket. Ashton is practically buzzing behind him, respectfully refraining from asking questions but obviously curious. 

The blonde hesitates before tiptoeing past Mikey and Calum’s room, not wanting to alert them to the fact that they’re not invited. Having the other two along would just make everything much more awkward.

Ashton looks confusedly between Luke and the end of the hallway before a lightbulb goes off. “Is this a date, Lucas?”

Luke’s getting real sick of his face heating up, and is suddenly eager to get outside, where Ashton’s face will get a reddish tint from the cold and he won’t feel like such a freak of nature. “Yeah,” he answers, with a sense of finality, tightening the strap of the backpack he’s carrying, “it is.”

They walk comfortably for a while, leaving the hotel and walking down a few avenues. It’s nearly midnight, so the streets are relatively barren for NYC, little groups of people walking instead of large crowds. Of course, Luke still sees some faces light up in recognition, but he shakes his head, hoping for the best. Shockingly, no one approaches them.

Luke pulls out his phone to search for the exact address of the rink closest to the hotel. He’s got a general idea of the location but doesn’t want to accidently veer off onto some random street and have to beg for help. Google is in the middle of loading it’s maps when Luke feels pressure against his free hand, fingers interlacing with his own.

He looks over at Ashton, who is already staring at him. The look in the older boy’s eyes appears to be a mixture of adoration and nerves, but Luke chalks it up to his own head projecting what he feels onto Ash.

The phone in his hand vibrates and he forgets what he was doing for a minute, distracted by the object of his affections beside him. An alien voice directs Luke to the skating rink and his heart is practically in his throat as he navigates his way, fear of saying something vacuous nearly leading him to trip over himself, almost taking Ashton down with him.

Time is moving slower than normal, and Luke feels like every sensation is heightened. The brisk air leads to goosebumps lining up and down his arms, the flashing lights are invading his retinas at twice the intensity they normally would, and Ashton’s hand feels warmer and softer than he can recall it ever feeling before. 

The aforementioned hand squeezes his suddenly, and Ashton’s hip bumps against Luke, startling him out of his sensory overload. “You okay?” The drummer asks, concern visible in his pretty hazel eyes.  
“Yeah, I’m great!” Luke responds, a little louder than he intended, hitching the backpack higher up on his shoulder. The GPS on his phone beeps and they turn a corner, the last one before the rink.

It’s immediately obvious that something is wrong when there isn’t a single light lit up around the ice rink. Luke’s heart plummets to the ground and he immediately regrets leaving the hotel room, no, agreeing to go on this stupid fucking trip, because now he looks like an idiot and oh god Ashton let go of his hand-

For a second Luke has no idea what Ash is doing, walking towards the rink, because there might be security cameras and they’re too fragile to end up in jail, not to mention they would never live it down.

He watches as Ashton hooks both of his hands in different rings of the chain link fence before hoisting himself up, cooly climbing up and over the fence that’s twice their size within two minutes. Luke can’t help the look of shock on his face, mouth hanging open.

“Those elves just keep fuckin’ us up the ass, yeah?” Ashton laughs from the other side of the fence. “Are you coming, or what?” He beckons, and Luke clumsily climbs the fence, almost losing his footing twice but eventually making it over, not realizing until he’s already done that he technically just broke the law.

Luke takes a second to brush himself off and gently places the backpack on the ground, opening it up and taking out the pairs of ice skates he had bought last minute. He offers the smaller pair to Ashton, who acts astonished by the present.

“Oh Huke Lemmings, you shouldn’t have!” The older boy says in a faux Southern accent, fanning himself, and Luke feels himself grin excitedly, forgetting for the time being that they are, in fact, trespassing.

After struggling for a few minutes to get the skates on, they both make it onto the rink in one piece. Luke makes a wise crack about height not equalling gracefulness, but pretty much the exact opposite, while all Ashton needs is to push himself off the side, and he’s off like a pro.

“Why am I not surprised you’re good at this?” Luke mumbles under his breath, a little dazed by how damn good Ashton is at everything under the sun. While it’s impossible that the drummer actually heard the rhetorical question, he giggles, and it seems like enough of an answer.

Eventually Luke is about to give up, getting bored of watching Ashton literally skate circles around him, but as soon as he makes a move to exit the rink, Ashton immediately skates over, circling an arm around the taller boy’s waist. “Hold on to my hand,” he orders, and Luke reflexively clutches their hands together. 

“Glide a little,” Ashton instructs, adjusting Luke’s movements as he sees fit, “shift your weight from one leg to the other. That’s a good boy.” 

Luke tries to hide his beaming face away, not willing to show Ashton how much the praise means to him. It doesn’t feel like he’s being mocked, for once. They’ve only been skating for a few minutes but he can feel his confidence building, wants to try something else.

He’s shocked out of his reverie by a couple of flashlights being shown into their faces, watches fleeting recognition fly across Ashton’s face, and it’s over all too quickly. Luke doesn’t even hear the guardsmen say anything, but he’s too focused on Ashton anyway.

They’ve both got their skates untied and shoes thrown back on within thirty seconds, and they’re running back to the hotel as fast as they can to avoid getting in trouble. 

\--------------

They stumble into the hotel room, Ashton slamming Luke’s back onto the door as soon as he shuts it. Luke thinks the mood change from panicked about getting arrested to lustful happened almost immediately after the risk of getting caught was gone, wonders if that’s what Ashton is into, but he doesn’t care for semantics at the moment.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me, Lukey?” Ashton coos, and Luke arches his back against the door, eager for friction.

“Say that again, fuck,” He whines, nibbling on his lip ring.

“You’re always such a good boy for me, Luke.” Ashton praises, a devilishly attractive smile gracing his face, dimples on full display. 

This time when Ashton praises him, Luke doesn’t feel a sense of pride, but just a desire for more. 

“You’re gonna beg for it, yeah? Seeming as how you almost got us arrested, it’s the least you can do.” Ashton ruts his hips into Luke’s, face lighting up as the younger boy moans.

Luke’s about to protest, exclaim that Ashton is the one who jumped over the fence and insisted they skate, but the pressure feels oh so good and why ruin a good thing when it’s just getting started?

“Please,” he asks, voice barely above a whisper, afraid it’ll crack if he tries any harder. His jeans are already so tight and Ashton hasn’t even done anything yet. 

“Aw, you can do better than that, baby,” the drummer shakes his head, biting his lip gently as one of his hands brushes Luke’s thigh, the other lacing through his blonde hair.

“Please!” Luke whimpers as Ashton grips his semi-hard cock, thrusting up into his hand, “Please, please, fuck, please!”

“What do you want, honey?” Ashton asks, lips so close to Luke’s, but he won’t let them touch, won’t relieve any of the pressure. He’s being a tease, even if he won’t say the words out loud, and Luke wants to hate him for it. 

“Want you to touch me, please!” Luke’s hips rear up when Ashton slips his hand beneath the waistband of the younger boy’s jeans, shoving them down to his ankles in one quick motion. His boxers are next, although Ashton only bothers to get them out of the way enough that he can free Luke’s cock from it’s confines.

They’ve seen each other before, so it’s not like Ashton is surprised that Luke is decently sized, not that it entirely matters because he’s the one getting fucked, not vice versa, but truth be told, Ashton has never really had an opportunity to observe how pretty Luke’s cock is. The tip is already flushed a delicate pink, and as a whole, it’s lengthy and thick. He subconsciously licks his lips, wants to go in for the kill and turn Luke into a moaning puddle on the floor, but control is the most important thing here. So he just kisses the tip, runs his tongue up and down the length a few times, convinces Luke he’s going to get more than he actually is. Then Ashton’s standing back up, off of his knees, and Luke’s giving him an accusatory glare.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m going to take real good care of you,” Ashton promises, and Luke simply moans, desperate for anything and everything the older boy has in store for him, “let’s go to the bed, so you can be a little more comfortable, okay, Lukey?”

Luke lets Ashton take his clothes off completely, folding them under one arm before placing them on top of his suitcase. The tension is palpable in the air as Ashton guides Luke to the bed, pushing him down on the comforter. He wants to complain about how Ash is fully clothed, but the curly-haired boy reads his mind, shedding his shirt and jeans before joining the younger on the bed. 

White noise fills Luke’s ears as Ashton grips the base of his cock again, a wicked smile on his face as he slowly starts jerking the blonde off. Luke throws his head back, almost hitting his scalp on the headboard.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Ashton announces, breaking Luke’s vocal domination of the atmosphere, with an obscene twinkle in his eye, “twisting and turning, desperate for me to make you feel good.” He continues playing with Luke’s cock for a minute or so, building the boy up torturously slowly, before pushing himself up off the bed, going to his suitcase once more.

Luke groans, needy and more than a little horny. “Ashton, please, I need you.”

“I’m coming, baby,” Ashton answers, searching furiously through his bag for the necessity. Finally, he pulls the lube out of where he stashed it underneath his other four pairs of skinny jeans.

“Gotta prep you,” He mumbles, more to himself than Luke, “want this to feel so good for you. Never want you to forget this.”

Ashton surges in for his first kiss of the night, capturing Luke’s lips with his own. He immediately starts to trace his tongue over Luke’s teeth, before chasing after his tongue. As they kiss, Ashton continues rutting their hips together. Luke breaks the kiss to let out a wanton moan, and Ashton takes that opportunity to suck a mark onto the younger boy’s neck. He almost loses track of time, but then has a sudden recollection of what he’s supposed to be doing, and reaches to the bedside table for the forgotten lube and also notices the innocent condoms that Michael had left there as a joke before leaving.

The lube is cold on his fingers, but Ashton is strictly focused on Luke beneath him, who is looking both excited and nervous at the same time by the idea of getting fucked. “Roll over,” Ashton requests, and adds a “please” as an afterthought.

Luke complies, trying to avoid getting a faceful of pillow and keep an eye on Ashton by turning his head to the side. He feels the finger sliding into his hole rather than sees it, as they’re out of his field of vision, but he trusts Ashton enough.

Ashton waits for the okay, which comes in the form of a small moan, before adding more fingers and scissoring. He’s only done this once before, but the other time he didn’t care this much about who was underneath him.

“I think you’re ready now,” Ashton says gently, and Luke offers a confirming nod, more than a little eager. Ashton reaches over to the bedside table, grabs a condom, and silently thanks Michael for saving him another awkward trip to his suitcase.

Luke’s breath hitches in his throat as a steadying hand is splayed out on his lower back, comforting him.

Ashton gently guides his cock past Luke’s tight ring of muscle, pausing inch-by-inch, watching the younger boy’s body language for signs of discomfort. He bottoms out before Luke lets out so much as a whimper.

“Give me a second,” the blonde asks, and Ashton is happy to oblige, trailing wet kisses across Luke’s broad shoulders that he loves so much. He’s about to ask if more lube is necessary, because he’s got tons of it, when Luke rocks his hips.

“Oh, fuck me!” Ashton digs his nails into Luke’s back before reversing his cock out of Luke, then piloting it back in, gripping his thighs in place. “You’re a cheeky little shit, you are,” Ashton teases, pushing his sweaty curls off of his forehead, tries to regain control of his stamina after Luke’s little surprise.

Luke moans at the friction, feels Ashton’s cock hit his prostate with every inward thrust, and knows he’s going to come embarrassingly soon, especially with the way his cock is rubbing against the sheets on the bed. He wants desperately to be impressive (a power bottom, he remembers Calum mentioning once) but it’s just too much good all at once.

Just as he thinks he’s getting used to the pace and might be able to hold on for a little longer, Ashton takes one hand off of Luke’s thigh and wraps it around his cock, roughly working his long fingers up and down, brushing his thumb over the tip every time he reaches it.

It takes Luke a very few short minutes to build himself up to a crescendo, but he doesn’t have any time to regret it.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come, Ashton, fuck,” Luke pants, feeling adrenaline course through him. 

“Ask permission,” Ashton orders, once again, but his voice is much tighter this time, like he’s balancing on a tightrope himself. Luke groans as a hand comes down on his ass, and he lurches forward.

“Please let me come, Ash!”

There’s a short instant in which Ashton says nothing, just continues thrusting, in and out, presumably to stretch out the torture as long as he can. Luke feels his orgasm bubbling up and he doesn’t know if he can stop it, not when Ashton’s breath is hot on his back.

“Come.”

Luke’s back goes rigid, and Ashton pulls him up, the younger boy’s back at his chest, heaving. The room feels like it’s on fire for a moment, and Luke’s almost one hundred percent certain he’s never come this hard in his life.

It takes him some time to come down, and when he does open his eyes, Luke is assaulted by a change in scenery. Ashton’s already up off the bed, tying the condom in a knot and throwing it in the trash. For a second Luke feels panic wash over him, is afraid that the drummer is going to feel awkward and leave the room.

But Ashton simply picks up his boxers from where he abandoned them and puts them back on, throwing Luke’s own at his face, smile obnoxiously wide on his beautiful face.

“Cuddle?” Luke asks, because he’s just been fucked and he can’t resist. Ash doesn’t respond, just curls up in bed next to Luke and starts petting his hair.

\--------------

The next morning, Ashton is woken up by pounding on the hotel room door. He opens the door to see a frazzled Calum, hair sticking up at crazy angles. 

“Mind telling me why the fuck you two were screaming bloody murder at one am?”

\--------------


End file.
